


The Hand Ain't Listening, Either

by WintermoonTyger



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Choking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Monster Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Restraints, Snowballing, i guess??, i had an image in my head and I rolled with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 22:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11907285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WintermoonTyger/pseuds/WintermoonTyger
Summary: The face that had horrified Ana Amari, one of the most difficult women to faze any which way, had left dickhole-cum-laude Jack Morrison perhaps mildly surprised with some raised eyebrows and then effing rolled with it. Reaper did not appreciate the inappreciation for the monster he had become. Like for effs sake, Jack, read the God damn mood.





	The Hand Ain't Listening, Either

The face that had horrified Ana Amari, one of the most difficult women to faze any which way, had left dickhole-cum-laude Jack Morrison perhaps mildly surprised with some raised eyebrows and then fucking rolled with it. Reaper did not appreciate the inappreciation for the monster he had become. Like for fucks sake, Jack, read the God damn mood.

It did not seem to matter how many creepy red eyes Reaper had peppered on his face (seven), or that his needle-like teeth had their own peepshow on one side of his face, or juts of bone poked out across his bare skin, or the nanite cloud he controlled and used often, Jack still ran his hands through his short wavy hair and said he missed him and looked at him straight on, sometimes warily, sometimes angrily, sometimes sadly, sometimes with that look of an orgasm. (Happiness was the privilege of hope; don't hope, ever.)

But if 76 was not going to read the script, Reaper was going to keep improvising.

In result, the play's direction went completely off mark in the pursuit of fear, a new story being forged with every encounter, and pants were dropping for the  _twenty-sixth fucking time_ \--!?

"You don't even protest anymore," murmured Gabriel in annoyance.

"You do. Big ol' death bucket Reyes can't be assed to be fucked on his knee--hrk!" The collar of smoke tightened around Jack's throat, bare of the brace that would have protected it, and Reaper let him fight for his breath as Death looked the man over. He had told 76 there would be vengeance for the sake of appearances, and having him trapped so in the black nanite clouds hit all of Gabriel's morbidly poetic aesthetics: wrists bound above his head, ankles shackled and forced apart, the collar, all shoved up neatly against a wall. All visual reminders that this was his show, and damned if he wasn't going to make the soldier terrified. Or at least fucking nervous.

(Someone's half-hard dick was being contrary to Reaper's detailed and definitely evil machinations.)

Reaper raked his glove's claws down the open track of 76's jacket, causing his poor victim to splutter and squirm, and the collar eased itself looser with a thought. A little air went a long way, and Jack used it to squawk awkwardly when Reaper's trail led him to grabbing his tented crotch and digging in to the cloth.

"Sounded painful," Reaper said dryly; he grinned when no rebuttal came and took his time undoing 76's belt and the front of his pants. The grab had done nothing to wither him, nor did a lone talon mapping (twitch) the contour of the erection over the fabric of his briefs. "What do you think's going to happen this time, Morrison? Surely not a gloved handjob; I've given you that before. I'll give you some time to think about it."

Jack panted quietly while Reaper shed him a little further, yanking down two waistbands to roughly free his cock (they both hissed). Reaper made a semi-show of removing one glove, pulling at each finger individually instead of pulling it straight off and, with palm down, wrapped his bare hand around hot flesh to slowly jerk him off.

"Gabe, what--" Because something was off. A hand was definitely on him, but the sensation was alien. Wet, a feeling of emptiness, catching against something, it felt...like...

Reaper shifted his hand to palm the head of his cock and Jack spasmed as something sucked over the slit hard--

\--and suddenly Reaper's arm was where 76's dick should be, riding into Jack's buck forward as the soldier found himself engulfed in a unfamiliar damp, tight warmth he had not been expecting. The long, loud groan seeped in Jack's deep voice rang in Reaper's ears and Reaper clenched his muscles down as he slowly dragged his arm back until he was off, and he raised his hand up for Jack to see

a mouth

in the meat of Reaper's palm, with lips and a tongue but no teeth and Jack could...not...look away from its existence and he followed it raptly as possible as Reaper brought it back down (the shark-like smile he was missing on Gabriel's face in consequence) and watching it fucking...flick its tongue against the underside of his cock before poising it back against the head to kiss, mouth at, and finally swallow him down again.

How the curses flew.

76 fought against his bounds as Reaper "deep-throated" him, and it was weird feeling something through his arm like this but he bobbed and cradled and gyrated enough to make Jack into a fucking mess. Pressed up firmly against his abdomen and let the tongue freely slide out as far as it could to lap along his balls, and Reaper contemplated more possibilities but Jack--with a last squeal of his name--came inside the cavern of his forearm, and the pulsing twitch of him emptying himself felt strangely prominent, in a way Gabriel never got to feel swallowing him down in the traditional sense.

"Good boy," Reaper purred. The last drips of 76's seed coated the lips of his palm obscenely, and Reaper licked at them while the soldier's head remained bowed.  _Always familiar_.

When Jack did finally look him in the eyes again, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed a perfect pink, Reaper grabbed the lower half of his face and pushed his head up against the wall.

The lips of his palm flush to 76's own mouth; the realization wasn't lost on Jack, eyes widening with a hint of panic.

Reaper chuckled in victory.

"Drink up, boy scout."

And much to his aggravation, Jack closed his eyes and sucked.

(Reaper stopped caring about horrifying him, finally.)

**Author's Note:**

> So i normally wouldn't go back and forth between names so much, but I feel like there's four different people involved, like the body versus the mind. Sorry if that irked anyone?


End file.
